Ruby Red Nails, My Sweetest Friend
by xlasting.memoriesx
Summary: "Gently, she twisted the doorknob and pushed the old door open. It was as though the brightest sun breathed against her face, reaching completely to her soul, and beckoning her forth. So, she continued to walk and walk and walk. The almost vacant room seemed to last forever, but her eyes longingly captured the ending of her story." (Slightly AU, maybe)


_"If I could start again,_

 _a million miles away,_

 _I would keep myself,_

 _I would find a way."_

 _-Hurt by Johnny Cash/Nine Inch Nails_

* * *

Whiteness surrounded, blending the top, bottom, left, and right into one existence. It wasn't powerful or blinding, but instead consistent and soft. This was everything that was left, and nothing truly mattered from beforehand. Blinking, she tried to recall what transported her to this location, but only fragmented haziness clouded her mind. She lingered between here and there, as though she was everywhere. Stretching out her arms, one was dressed in bruises, dark spots, and wrinkles, while the other appeared to have discovered the fountain of youth. It possessed eternal beauty and her heart yearned for it, so young and naïve.

"Are you alright?"

A strong male's voice penetrated her nothingness, and suddenly the whiteness began to shift. It, now, rebounded off the bed sheets her eyes had fixed on. Delicately, she traced the soft, black design, and wondered how long it must've taken Mother to stitch in the patterns. She couldn't wait to tell her how exquisite the pattern was. It was one she could see herself using long into her older years. Mother would be proud to hear such a grand compliment.

"Look at me, Susan."

Turning her head at the command, a smile exploded on to her face and she grasped her brother's hands. His blue eyes widened, startled by her quick movement, and then narrowed to the protective, caring stare she knew. Suddenly, a melodic laugh escaped her lips and she threw her head back.

"Oh, Peter, I feel better than I have in ages. I must finally be getting over this horrible flu." She paused, before searching behind him a moment and frowning. "But where are Edmund and Lucy?"

Confusion twinkled on his strong face, as the concern glistened in the corners of his eyes. She rolled her eyes, somehow knowing he wouldn't know. Releasing his hands, she threw back the covers and slid towards the edge of the bed. Her eyes narrowed in on the window, while she playfully scolded, "Are you keeping track of them? They might be a king and queen now, but they're still children. Goodness, Peter, I expected more from you."

"I'm sorry… I don't understand… kings and queens?" He positioned himself in front of her and placed hands on her shoulders to keep her from standing. "You really need to stay in bed. You need the rest."

"Rest?" Her voice lowered, showing her bewilderment. "But we need to get ready for the feast this afternoon. Our people are expecting us."

She fought against his restraints, trying to keep her mood of merriment. However, his forceful, protective nature was proving it difficult. She didn't understand; this was so very much unlike her brother. He enjoyed his position too much to forget an event, such as the feast, or not keep tabs on their siblings. Smiling, she attempted to charm her way, while trying to recall why she needed to rest in the first place.

"I can't wait to see Tumnus," she hummed, allowing the excitement to brighten her eyes. "It's been so long, hasn't it?"

It must've been the wrong thing to say, as he gently pressed her harder into the bed. Panic rose on to his face, as a hopeless pleading echoed in his eyes. They opened up into his soul, and instantly she saw that trouble crashed in the waves of his eyes. A sense of drowning overtook her, and worriedly, she gently placed a hand against his face. He couldn't hide behind any stoic masks anymore.

"Peter, what wrong's? What happened?" Her voice remained steady, despite the overwhelming ominous feeling creeping up her spine. "Is it Edmund and Lucy? They're alright… r-right?"

His lip quivered, while doubt and tears farther wet his eyes; she knew, as their waves reached out and dragged her beneath the surface with him. She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand. Her mind couldn't believe it. Narnia was a place of endless wonder, not destruction and pain. They were Kings and Queens; after everything, this couldn't be.

"No. Don't say it. They're not… n-no… Eustace? Is he…" She gasped, choking on her breath as he looked down. "B-But… t-they're just children! H-How could this happen… Peter!"

Collapsing on to his shoulder, she sobbed, trying to recall the last moment she spoke to them. The memories arrived jumbled and confused, resulting in her body to break into a violent shaking. One moment, they had everything, and now, they were alone. At least, she still had Peter. She attempted to focus on her arms slowly rubbing circles into her aching back. His calmness concerned her greatly, but she could tell by the tightness of his breaths that he continued to keep a secret from her. Gathering her strength, she pried herself off of him, and vacantly stared at him. The tension was frozen on her face.

"What is it, Peter? What aren't you telling me?" She internally cringed at the break of her voice, but the emotions clouded with memories bombarded her soul. She felt heavy and empty within. Where was Aslan when she needed him?

He took a breath, while blinking back tears, before slowly, whispering, "T-They're all gone… e-each one… P-Peter too… T-They d-died in 1949… Grams… I'm s-sorry…"

She shook her head, while fury ignited within her. He was lying; he was Peter. He had to be. They had the same eyes, but suddenly she couldn't recall any other feature of her brother, or any of her family. Panic spread through her, as she hastily tried to push the stranger away. He was right, he wasn't her brother. He was no one. A scream of fear escaped her lips, as he tried to keep her arms from smacking him. She'd over come him, if only she could find her bow and arrows. They must be around here somewhere.

Extending her arm to push him away, she gasped and fell backwards on the bed at what she saw. There wasn't a smooth patch on it, instead loose skin hung oddly off thin bones and dark marks and moles patched the skin like fabrics in a quilt. This wasn't her body; she couldn't recognize it. It was a body of an old woman, but she was still a teen.

A door creaked in the background, and overtop of her perfectly shaped and vibrantly painted fingernails, Susan saw a young woman, who was similar to the girl she believed to be, tiptoe into the room. Her brown hair hung over her shoulders, as her eyes worriedly scanned the room, before connecting with the strange man beside her. Scooting away from their touch, she steadied herself, while frantically trying to comprehend the distortion of events.

"Dad, I'm sorry… we just heard crying…" The young woman's face scrunched up momentarily, before nodding over at a smaller figure peering in from the doorway. "We're scared…"

Instantly, the younger boy defiantly stepped in and puffed out his chest in protest. His dark eyes were hard and determined, as he made sure to remain out of the other girl's grasp. Any hint of fear buried beneath pure stone; the stoic semblance easily bypassed Peter's, as though the young boy was insulted to be connected to feelings and errors. He would learn in his own ways, for not even stone could paint over loyalty and justice within.

"I'm not scared," snapped the boy, as his arms crossed over his chest.

Susan softly laughed, "Oh, you never were, Edmund."

Freezing, the boy hesitated, while glancing over at the strange man, before stepping farther into her bedroom. Keeping his strong stance, he focused on her. Those eyes continued to decide what was real and what was not, always needing to see to believe, as they all had… except Lucy; her young mind always believed, and her courageous heart always held faith. Her laughter swept in through the cracked window like a soft breeze kissing Susan's skin. They needed to have a picnic soon; after all, the dark circles hanging beneath Edmund's eyes spoke a thousand words. Every king and queen needed an occasional break, especially ones who were only children.

"I'm not Edmund, Grandma. No one here is. This is just another one of your episodes. Why can't you understand that?" His words were sharp and condemning, as anger rushed through her.

Hadn't he learned that playing games hurt people? Did he not recall the pains he put Lucy through during the discovery of the wardrobe? This was horrible. The only positive part of the situation was that Peter was not there to retaliate. Susan could handle this game by herself. She'd be fine.

Sitting up on the bed, her lips twisted into a frown. "Edmund, don't- not today. The delegates should be arriving any time now? How could you act so childish?"

"I'm not doing nothing! You're the one who's gone mad!" accused Edmund, causing her to pause in her preparation thoughts.

The tone was foreign to her, yet held such a familiar defiance. Closing her eyes to take a breath, another couple of voices quickly chastised him. One woman and one male, but neither that Susan trusted or knew of. There were strangers in the castle and they reprimanded her brother. How dare they? This was only a small family situation; outside assistance wasn't needed.

Her eyes flashing open, words began to break the barrier and erupt into sound, until whiteness overtook her. The limitations of a hazy reality gently drifted around, as the figures of strange people circled her. In the distance, there was the sound of a young girl's laughing. It was growing louder, as her breathing tightened. She didn't understand; where was this floating feeling coming from?

"It's happening, Dad… is she g-gonna…" The distant voice softened in the end, as a black figure began calling for her, then calling various orders to those behind him.

Crying and fighting could be heard in the background, as soft beeps jumped through the scale. It reminded her of the arpeggios Mother used to play for them. How she missed her… one day, Susan swore, they'd return home to her. After all, she must've been completely terrified, if the war hadn't claimed her that was…

The sirens erupted in her ears, as her nostrils regained that horrible stench. She tried to cough, but the breath was lodged in her throat. It couldn't escape, and she reached out in the increasing white to grab a hold of the man's hand. Gripping it tightly, she yearned to call out for her siblings, but nothing she did made any sound. Panic over took her, as her fingers found their way to her chest. She clutched the tight area, trying to stop the shooting pain down her left side. Nothing was working, and she understood she must've been hit by an arrow. Now, she lay in the battlefield and hoped for victory for the rest of her siblings. There was so much she'd never accomplish, and so much she regretted. Nothing of that sort mattered any longer.

The girl's laughter faltered; it was beside her now. Shifting her head, Susan saw Lucy holding a single vial and a pleading look crept on to her eyes. Yet, she only feebly fumbled with it, before it fell upon the floor. Glass shattered, and water splashed against her dangling hand. Staring at the broken parts, her polished fingernails and elegant rings attracted her. Tears swelled in the corner of her eyes, as the fear of death overtook her.

"H-Hey…" the boy's voice was no longer strong but shaking. "perhaps, she'll s-see them there… y-you know… in that weird place she's looked everywhere for…?"

Susan relaxed, recalling the endless trips to antique shops and England, as she tried desperately for years to find her siblings. It hadn't always been, but the longer she lived, the more she couldn't stand it. Narnia had to have existed, and she was ignorant to ignore the memories that burned within. No amount of make-up, materials, or money could ever replace the gapping whole that poisoned her heart. It would never change the fact that she was chosen to be left behind. If she could've done it all over again… if she could only see her siblings and cousin again... if only she had spent less money on manicures and more on looking… if only Aslan could rescue her again and relieve her of her miseries… if only… if only… The whiteness faded to black.

* * *

The air smelled crisp, bringing forth memories of impending summer, with velvet breezes rustling the green leaves on trees. A foreign mansion on the outskirts of innocent lands came fluttering to her mind, and the ancient threshold appeared as her eyes opened. Her fingers slowly caressed the banister, embracing every detail. The chaos and pain from before dwindle more with every step, as the excitement of adventure and wonder lead her up the stairs.

They creaked beneath her weight, and seemed to go on forever. However, the more the lights settled into the darkness, she began to recognize where she was act. Nerves fumbled throughout her body sending her back to her childhood self. The idea of war, evacuation, and not knowing if she'd ever see her parents again plagued her, while a faint roar in the wind calmed her. Her entire existence was a contradiction, but this time around she would not make the same mistakes. The harsh center that burned her core vanished, as a gentle laughter, once more, reminded her of the present, past, and future. Any fear she possessed suddenly became nonexistent.

Upon the landing, she knew didn't need to trance to direct her. The path was imprinted with memories of childhood games, innocence, and undying love. A part of her became to eat at envy, but she quickly pushed it aside. No more, she told herself, no more. This was unlocking everything she had yearned for, so why allow a past haunting to steal it away. The darkness was addicting; the system was well known. One taste and any hope from what awaited beyond the door would be stolen away. It'd be handed to someone else, and she'd be sent away.

This time, however, there was no journey to rediscover. It was now or never, and every part of her thanked the great lion for never abandoning her. She might have thought so, long ago, but the more she remembered, the more she heard her siblings's voices. Why had she never listened before? He would never leave one of them alone, and he always came exactly when they needed it. She smiled, recalling Tumnus returning to life from cold stone. Evil had lost through the help of them and Aslan.

Gently, she twisted the doorknob and pushed the old door open. It was as though the brightest sun breathed against her face, reaching completely to her soul, and beckoning her forth. So, she continued to walk and walk and walk. The almost vacant room seemed to last forever, but her eyes longingly captured the ending of her story. Tears of joys prickled at the sides. Finally, she whispered, thanking the great Aslan that her great-grandson had been right.

Taking a moment, she rested her forehead against the wood frame, driven by a want to recall every scratch in it. The beauty was unspeakable, as she slowly stretched out her feeble hand and unhook the wardrobe. Coat after coat blocked her view, as excitement and grace over took her. Squishing her frail body within, she battled items after items until finally the sun that she felt really was breathing against her face.

Stepping into the sunlight, it was a Narnia she had never seen before, but beside her stood the lamppost and in front of her was her siblings. Beside them, stood Aslan. Relief soared through her aged body, and she glanced down to see the young woman she had once been. Tears formed in her eyes, as Lucy ran forward, after approval from Aslan, and engulfed her in a simple hug.

"I knew it. I knew you'd return!" She exclaimed, as Susan returned the embrace.

Over her sister's head, she saw a smirking Edmund, who rolled his eyes, and she desired to hear one of his witty comments that she had loathed so long ago.

He nodded. "Yeah, took you long enough."

Smiling, her eyes landed on Peter, who wildly grinned. "Welcome back."

Wiping away tears, Susan broke from Lucy's embrace, before timidly walking to the one she had never realized she cared to see so much. Bowing down in front of the great lion, she cried- tears of joy, loss, and forgiveness.

Aslan bowed his head to her. "Welcome home, Queen Susan, the Gentle."

Finally, after all these years- the searching, the despair, and the learning of faith- Susan Pevensie was home. And it was even more magical than even she could have imagined.

* * *

 **A/N: This is dedicated to a role-play group, Narnia's Golden Age RPG, that I am in, as this is something a few of them and I have discussed a couple times and well, this is my take on it! Hopefully, everyone enjoys. The song has no real importance, except that it inspired the beginning of it (along with Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin) and it quoted better for the sake of the story than the other one! :)**


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